The Dent In My Heart
by P-NutButterRox
Summary: Clary is sick and dying. No one knows the cause. She refuses to tell Jace. How will it end? I freaking hate summarys, so it's probably slighly, if not majorly, better than it sounds! After COG. Flames accepted. T just incase something slips.
1. Suprise

**Yo! I resently erased everything on my file from a long time ago and started fresh. My writing is hopefully better then it was last year. *Cringe **

**So anyway this is a story I made up in like fifteen minute so hopefully it's good. If you think the story line has potential then please tell me if I should continue, and thoughts on what you would like to happen next would be great! :)**

**Set after COG.**

**Summary: Clary is slowly dying. No one knows the cause. She's reluctant to tell Jace. What's gonna happen? *Keep in mind I freaking hate summarys so it may be slightly if not majorly better then it sounds.**

**DISCLAIMER: No. I do not own these characters, and if I did, I sure wouldn't be sharing them with you.**

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Life is a fragile thing, Clary thought, like glass. Elegant, beautiful, and smooth to the touch. But if you look closer, there may be cracks, dents, or faults. It can be melted or mended, but the glass will always be the same . . . glass. Many try, in fruitless vain, to mask or enhance its beauty, and many will succeed. But not without a few scars.

"Clary," Jace called.

She slowly lifted her gaze up from the worn out sketch pad that sat balanced in her lap. Clary was working on her latest rune, every other day it was something different. And every other day as she sat on her bed working skillfully, Jace would be there. Always right beside her, moving hair out of her face, or softly whispering words of encouragement.

"Hmm," she mumbled in response.

"Have you not heard anything I said in the last two minutes?" he asked.

"Uh . . . no sorry," Clary admitted, "I was thinking."

"Well stop, I'm afraid you might hurt yourself," Jace smirked. And though it was intended as a joke, Clary could see the worry in his eyes.

"Ha – ha, that's so funny," she glared.

"I said Magnus just texted me about a party. I told him I would ask you but . . ." he trailed off.

"But what?" Clary impatiently asked.

"Well, I just thought since you haven't really trained all week, that maybe, you know . . ."

"No, I don't know. Please enlighten me, Jace" she snapped. Clary didn't know why she was being mean. She knew she needed to practice.

"Clary. Calm down, I was just saying that you needed a little more training, we're more behind then I planned on being right now, so –"

"I'm sorry not all of us have had years of practice, your highness! I'm sorry that not some people have a life outside of killing demons!" Clary yelled.

Jace stared, mouth agape, but quickly composed himself, "It's not like you're all perfect either! 'Cause as long as I've known you all you've ever done is complain until you get what you want!"

Clary knew what she was about to say and knew that she shouldn't do it.

_What's wrong with me?_ Clary wondered.

And despite her struggles, the words came spilling out of her mouth.

"But at least I look out for my family and not let them get killed, like you did Max," She said through clenched teeth. And though she didn't say the words with a certain remark or sting, it was the meaning behind them that count. At first Jace just stared at her with sad, unforgiving eyes. Then he sat up and pulled is jacket across his shoulder without uttering a word. He walked to the door only stopping to say two words.

"Screw you," Jace mumbled with such meaning that Clary couldn't help but feel small and helpless.

_What has she done? Why couldn't she just tell him what's really wrong?_

"Jace - ," she started to say, but he was already leaving. His retreating figure hurt Clary's eyes more than any pain she's ever felt before.

"I'm dying," Clary finished after the door shut close behind him.

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**Sorry it's so short. It's really more of a foretaste of my idea.**

**Comments encouraged. Flames welcomed with open arms. :)**


	2. Why me?

**Ok, so when we left off it was a little . . . depressing? Sad? Yeah. But with every fight a couple has, there's a make up. Hopefully. :/**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instrument Series, no matter how totally epic that may be.**

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Pain. Horrible pain was all Clary felt the moment she woke up. Her left side screamed and protested in agony as she tried to sit up in bed. Her vision was getting thinner and her head was throbbing. _Make it stop!_ Clary shouted inwardly. She tried to work up the strength to scream, but nothing came out. Clary was to terrified to make a noise.

Ignoring the stab in her thigh, she sprinted into the bathroom to puke her guts out. Clary heard the splash as her dinner made contact with the water. Groaning, she slowly got up and made her way to the sink to wash out her mouth. After scrubbing down her face, Clary tiredly plopped down on her bed.

A whole new pain once again entered Clary as she thought about her and Jace's fight last night. The horrible things she had said to him! Not only was this . . . this _thing_, causing her physical pain but it made her mean. Terribly so. How was Clary ever going to show her face to him again! She cringed at the thought.

_Then it's decided, _Clary thought, _I'm never going to leave this room again. _'Cause outside her bedroom door was the hallways of the institute, and somewhere in those hallways Jace was there. And Clary just couldn't face him! But she had to tell _someone_ what was going on with her. The only person that currently knew was Magnus and that's only because Clary went to him saying that she didn't feel right. Magnus then had confirmed that something was _seriously_ wrong, and he couldn't heal it unless he knew exactly what it was.

Until then, Clary was dying. Slowly but surly, her . . . disease was killing her. After many hours of begging Clary had finally convinced Magnus that he mustn't tell _anyone_, not a single soul. But he only agreed if Clary was to tell them in a time limit of two weeks, and so far it's already been one whole week! She _had_ to tell them, no matter how much it hurt. Today was the day, Clary could feel it. Clary quickly got changed into jeans and a T – shirt, and made her way to the kitchen. As soon as she opened the doors to the Lightwood family kitchen, she smelt it. A stench so foul it would have made a rat die in place. And, of course, Isabelle was standing over the stove flipping what looked like road kill. Clary gagged.

"What _are _you making?" she asked Isabelle.

"Pancakes," she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Since mom and dad are out for the week, I thought I should cook something special."

"Oh yeah, real special," Clary agreed. Notice the sarcasm? Isabelle shot her a glare. Just then Alec trudged tiredly into the kitchen followed by . . . Jace.

"Good morning," Isabelle greeted.

"Shut up, to tired to think," Alec took a seat at the table and laid his head in his arms. Jace started walking towards the fridge, ignoring Clary's eyes.

"Oh, no you don't!" Isabelle flung herself between Jace and the fridge, "I worked all morning on my pancakes and you are _not_ getting out of this one without at least trying them!"

"It's settled then," Jace said seriously.

Isabelle blinked, "_Really?_ You'll try my food?"

"No, I'm going to starve myself," his smile widened into an evil grin. And of course Jace's ever so brilliant witty remark led to a hostile one from Isabelle, and not after long there was a sibling spatter going on in the kitchen just life every other morning.

But Clary, being either stupid or suicidal, decided she better intervene. _It's now or never, _Clary thought to herself.

"Jace, I need to talk to you," she interrupted calmly. All of the faces in the room turned to Clary. Alec, lazily lifting his head up from under his arms to catch a glimpse at what was to happen next; Isabelle, staring at her in repulsive shock that anyone would dream of interrupting her. All eyes were on Clary . . . except Jace's. He just lifted his eyebrows in question without turning his head.

"What about?" he asked.

"I just wanted to explain what happened last night –"

"I don't want an explanation, Clary. I just want to be told the truth," Jace said with desperation and understanding in his voice.

Clary took a deep breath, "I know, and if you'll just come with me to the library, I'll be more than happy to tell you." Her eyes were beginning to feel heavy. Clary wanted more than anything to yell at him again, was craving it even. She wanted _so _bad to scream and say how worthless he was, which Clay _knew_ he wasn't. So she withdrew herself. _What's happening to me? _Clary couldn't help but wonder again.

"Sure," Jace nodded towards the door, gesturing for her to take the lead.

With long and prideful strides she hurried through the door and out to the hallways of the institute. Clary didn't look behind her to double check if Jace was following her because she knew he was. She could _feel_ him behind her. _Why is he doing this? _Clary mused, _After the horrible things I said to him. Why would he do what I asked? Unless . . . _she wondered.

After they entered the library and Jace shut the doors behind him, Clary turned around to talk.

"Who told you?" she demanded.

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**WARNING: The next chapter should be **_**really **_**sad. **

**Review or else a very ticked off Isabelle just might show up at your door step. :D**


	3. I Wish I Could Make it Go Away

**FINALLY! Here's the next chapter. I'm soooooo sorry that it took me this long to update. Like I said, I have a ton going on in my life right now. But hopefully I can bring you the next chapter later this week considering I'm on break. **

**But thank you to that people that comment and add my story to there favorites! I love it! Oh and by the way, I'm now going to only do first person writing so don't be confused about the transition from third. I just wanted you to understand what they are feeling a little better.**

**The song that inspired this chapter is "Save You" by Kelly Clarkson. Please tell me if you have any other requests or ideas.**

**DISCLAIMER: I'm not Cassandra Clare. **

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_Previous chapter:_**

_After they entered the library and Jace shut the doors behind him, Clary turned around to talk._

"_Who told you?" she demanded._

**Clary's POV.**

Ignoring my question, Jace asked one of his own, "How long has this been going on, Clary?"

His expression was blank, masking his feelings from me.

"You didn't answer my question," I whispered. Looking into his eyes I was shocked to find they were glistening with unshed tears. My breath caught in my throat, "Jace …" I reached toward him.

"How _long?_!" He demanded flinching away from my touch. He scrunched his nose, trying to block more tears from escaping. Jace; the guy who never showed any feeling of weakness, who always remained calm in urgent situations and laughed in the eyes of death . . ., was _crying. _I instantly wished that I could take his pain away. Hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright. That I wasn't going to leave him. That I _couldn't_ leave him. But I didn't, because I didn't have the strength to lie to him.

"I don't know. A few weeks, almost a month I think," I shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

Jace remained quiet. He slowly sat down into one of the chairs near him, like his legs couldn't keep his own weight anymore.

Clary broke the silence, "Who told you?" she asked again.

At that moment Jace's head snapped up to meet her eyes. In them she saw the vulnerability he tried so hard to keep back. The boy who was never shown any love, and had all he cared about taken away from him at such a young age.

"Not you, that's who," he snapped. As always Jace hid his pain under anger. And despite my earlier feelings of yelling at him, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. So I let Jace get all his feelings out now, because if we were ever going to talk about this, he needed to get his anger out.

"I mean how could you be so _selfish_, Clary?" he continued quickly standing from the chair with his new found strength, "Did you know that there are people that care about you, that _love _you. I really think that they deserve to know certain things like – I don't know – you're _dying!_" Even though his words were meant to sting, they didn't. I took none of it personal because if I know anything about Jace it's that he loves me. And in truth he was upset with the fact that I may someday be gone forever. No, he wasn't mad at me, he was made at what was killing me.

Tears were now flowing down his face making it red, but he didn't care anymore, "I had to hear it from _Alec_! I know you went to Magnus and I know that you made him swear not to tell anyone. By the Angel, Clary! Of all the stupid things you've done! How could you not have told _me?_"

The anger was slowly leaving his voice, "Do you think that I want to loose you? Do you have any idea what that would do to me? I – I love you."

"I love you, too," I whispered, "Come here." I held my arms open to him.

Slowly, he walked towards me until he embraced me fully. Wrapping his muscular arms around my waist, Jace whispered soft words into my hair, "You can't leave me." Over and over again.

"Shhh," I murmured into his chest.

For a long time we just stood there, lovingly holding each other. I could feel the silent wet tears fall into my fiery hair. I wanted to stay in this moment forever, to never move forward.

Again I broke the silence, "I'm sorry. About yesterday, the things I said to you –"

"No," his arms tightened around me, "Don't be sorry, ever."

Of course, I ignored him.

"I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have talked to you like that. I just always feel like I have to yell at someone. Like . . . like their misery is a drug. I – I don't know what's happening to me, Jace. I'm scared," I whispered. Jace rubbed my back comfortingly but said nothing. He had no idea what was going on with me anymore than I did myself.

"I think the best thing for us to do right now is to keep Magnus close. We should study your symptoms and do our best to research the Nephilim books to find out what's wrong, because it can't possibly be a human sickness. At least, I don't _think _it is," Jace said.

"Right now can we just be like this. Together," I said holding him closer to me.

Jace nodded, and brought us over to a love seat and pulled me down lying on top of him.

I looked up at his face, admiring everything about it. The curly blonde hair that always beckoned for her to touch it, always messy but yet always so neat in a way that made you believe that Jace was a guy who was not one who should be messed with. His careful and calculating golden eyes, which – at the moment – were slightly red around the rims, but still beautiful. And lastly, his mouth. Oh, his mouth! Soft lips that were perfectly angled, red, gorgeous, and just a few inches away –

I angled up to lightly trace my lips with his. The kiss was soft and kind. Like he was afraid that I might slip away any moment. Jace's arms tightened more at my waste, leaving absolutely no space between us. He was deepening the kiss just as a stabbing pain entered my side, like a thousand knives digging into my skin. I jumped off of Jace and ran like I've never ran before to the bathroom down the hall.

I wish I could tell you guys that I made it to the toilet _just_ in time to puke my guts out but, sadly, this is not the case. Halfway down the hall, I couldn't stop the rush of nausea that rolled out of me along with my intestines. Leaning my head down, I puked. Sweat was forming on my face along with the gut – wrenching stab in my side. I screamed bloody murder that I'm sure could be heard throughout the entire institute.

"Clary!" Jace called in panic, sprinting towards me. He stopped to gather what was in front of him.

"Is – is that _blood? _Clary, are you bleeding?" he rushed to hold me and look where I was hurt.

_Blood?_ I thought. Looking down, I realized that what had come out of my mouth was most defiantly not normal puke. It was a dark red liquid that was splattered across the floor as well on my clothes. I turned to Jace and could tell by his face that he just came to the same conclusion I did. Without warning, my vision was blurring out, black dots dancing across my sight.

"Clary? Jace? What's going on? Why is there blood on the floor?" I could faintly hear Isabelle talking behind me.

"Jace . . ." I whispered while sinking to the floor to lie in my own puke/blood. My legs were giving away and my vision was starting to completely go black.

"Clary!" Jace panicked, "Izzy! Go get help! Quick!"

I could only slightly hear the urgent and light footsteps of Izzy retreating.

I felt Jace's arms go around me for the third time that day, a circle of protection. I tugged on his shirt, refusing to let him go. I was afraid that if I let the darkness take me, then It might never give me back.

"It's going to be okay, love. Help is coming. Help is comi –" Jace's voice faded away as my hearing gave up, leaving me in the dark.

Knowing that my voice was the only thing left, I felt like I had to say one last thing to Jace before I left.

"I love you" I whispered.

And then the darkness took over.

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**Ooo! Cliffhanger! What's gonna happen next? Is Clary dead? If so, then how's Jace gonna react?**

**Keep watch for the next chapter and then you'll know. I had so much fun writing this one. Hope you guys had as much fun reading it!**

**Comment! **

**Flames welcomed! Well . . . accepted. **


	4. Hello? You Still There?

**Hello fellow readers and/or writers. I'm here to you with – dramatic pause – Chapter 4! **

**Hope you like it!**

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****Clary's P.O.V ****Gasp!**

It was dark. A cold depth that cut so deep into my subconscious that I couldn't find the strength to wake up again. What happened? Am I dead? The last thing I remembered was the blinding, uncontrollable pain. But there was something else; a color. A color I saw just before I went under . . . something important. After moments of pondering, I came to the conclusion that maybe I'm just imagining things. That maybe I'm _not_ dead, but perhaps just a little crazy. Because isn't being crazy a whole lot better then my other option? I tried to look around me, find my surroundings. But I only came up with black. A shiver ran down my spine as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It was freezing in this prison that I managed to create with my mind, the frigid air nipped at my nose and cheeks. _You'll get out,_ I reminded myself, _this is just . . . a coma._ 'Cause if it's not a coma then I have no other excuse to tell myself.

"Help!" I screamed, "Some body get me out of here!" Although I knew that no one could here me, I had to _try; _I couldn't stay here forever.

"Helphelphelphelphelp!" I panicked over and over again.

And that's when I heard it. The voice. One that's _so _familiar and inviting that I just want to jump into the owners arms – no matter who that stranger might be – and have them comfort me and tell me it'll be alright. Because right now . . . it isn't looking to good.

"_Clary?"_

It was a male's voice, defiantly a male.

"_Clary, wake up." _

The person sounded scared, excited, and a little tired.

"Please_, come back to me."_

With those words, just like that, I opened my eyes. And another pair stared right back at me. I gasped. It's _the _color, the one I saw before everything went dark.

Gold.

**Jace's P.O.V.**

"Clary!" I gasped. Immediately, I grasped her clammy hand in mine while kissing it everywhere.

"How do you feel?" I mumbled into her palm. Silence.

Gazing up into her eyes, I noticed that she was nervous and confused, but not scared, which I took as a semi – good sign. She just stared, never once speaking or making any kind of response towards me.

After Clary's "incident" in the hall, Izzy rushed to get Magnus – who was conveniently located in Alec's room – and he hurried with his spells and other voodoo wizardry stuff he does. I couldn't really tell you what he did because Alec had to shove me out of the infirmary after I tried to fling myself at her for the fifth time, but I do know that she has Moindenstrea, an ancient – and I mean _ancient _– sickness that plagued the Shadowhunters for hundreds of years. Apparently, it's a sort of parasite type thing that inwardly poison's the victim, slowly. The process could take years, all the while the host gets weaker. Clary's symptoms at the moment are vomiting blood, and increasingly painful stomach cramps. But later, it will turn into something much, much worse.

Memory loss.

Scared, I searched her beautiful emerald eyes for any sign of recognition, and came up empty. _No, _I thought desperately, _please, not her._

"Clary, honey? Answer me please," I pleaded. My grip on her hand tightened, never wanting to let go. Finally, Clary opened her cherry mouth to answer, but seemed to be contemplating what to say. I rubbed my thumb against her hand to say that it was ok, that I was there for her.

"So my name's Clary?" she asked, her eyebrows pulling together. It took all my strength not to scream, Clary's memory was officially gone. After all we've been through, what _I _have been through, thinking she was my sister, and never being able to be close with her, I finally get her just to have her ripped from my hands again. Even if we grow back to the stage were Clary still won't remember what happened. How hard we fought for each other, all the precious moments we shared, they'll be _gone. _

_Starting fresh, _I thought with an inward grown. I don't want fresh! I want Clary, _my _Clary! And though that may be a selfish, inconsiderate thought, I can't seem to think that this girl in front of me is Clary. So I just simply nod, hanging my head in defeat, not knowing what else there is to do or say.

"And you're Jace, right?" Clary whispers. With a spark of hope, my head snaps up, she knew my name!

Nodding violently I answer, "Yes, yes, and do you know who I am to you?" _Boyfriend, soul mate, true love, husband, and heck I'll even take hot guy! Anything but – _

"Brother?" she guesses. And there we have it ladies and gentlemen, back _right_ where we started.

"No, I'm your –"

"Jace Lightwood, don't you _dare_ finish that sentence!" warned Magnus from the door, "You can't say anything to her about anyone, she has to let her mind figure it out on her own, or else it's just too confusing and a lot to take," He explained, crossing the infirmary to stand beside her bed. Today's style is a long purple trench coat with blue sparkly skinny jeans and a black tank top.

"So she _will _get her memory back?" I eagerly ask.

"If Clary stays on the treatment she will. I've done some research in the Old Books and if I read correctly we just have to have her drink the treatment potion and she should have her memory back soon, but there is no saying when. This decease may be ancient and severely deadly, but it is also easily treated," he pushed his sleek black hair out of his eyes, "if founded in its earlier stages."

"Right," I answer, "so what now?" I glance at Clary to see if she understands anything he just said, and by the looks of it, she does.

"Now we just let Clary's body heal. She'll have to have two shots a day and drink the treatment three times a day, but in the long end, Clary should be as good as new," before I could leap with joy he adds, "_but, _everyone has to treat her normally, with no hints as to who you are as into relations with her." Magnus stared me down with intense meaning.

"What!" I asked. He glances at Clary as if to ensue that he can't exactly explain _what _in front of her.

"You know what, Jace. Control your emotions," he answers before turning to Clary.

"How do you feel, darling?" he gently asks.

"Fine, I guess. A little confused," she's looking at him like she's trying to figure out who he is and what the heck he's wearing.

"That's understandable," Magnus says sympathetically, "come with me and I'll show you to your room and explain the necessities on the way."

Clary looks at me with worried eyes, like she wants my consent.

"He's okay, a little weird in the head, but nice," I nod. She simply laughs like nothing could be more obvious to her. The laugh bounces off the walls and I soak in the joy and longing it brings me. I've missed that laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh at my suspense, act like I'm not _standing right in front of your freaking face," _Magnus scoffs. This only brings Clary into more of a laughing fit while jumping off of the bed.

"You're funny," she smiles and follows him in the direction of the door.

"Looking," I add, trying to cover it up with a cough.  
"I heard that," Magnus yells as the door comes to a subtle close behind them, Clary laughing all the while.

**Clary's P.O.V.**

The days seem to mush together. I get up, take a shower, and have training with whomever my instructor is that day, then study, eat, and go to bed. Of course, with different antics in between. Everyone seems to shine a little bit differently in this house.

I've only so far learned that I'm a shadowhunter, my name's Clary, I can draw, create runes, and everyone's name, though I still don't know who they are to me. No one quite looks like me, so I can't really picture being related to them. But maybe I'm adopted or something. Jace has already – accidentally – confronted that I am not his sister when I first met him. So either Jace is related to all of these people and I'm not, or I'm related to them and _he's _not. It's all so confusing! I'd like to believe that the woman with the redheaded hair that comes to visit me named Jocelyn is my mother because we look alike. And I really like Luke, too. But then why am I not living with _them?_ I ponder all this at dinner one night. We are eating home made spaghetti cooked by Isabelle since Maryse and Robert are gone, but the truth is, it's _terrible_. And it makes me gag from the first bite. I can tell Jace and Alec aren't fans either, but they both pick at it silently, probably for my sake.

Finally, when the silence is too much, I deliberately drop my fork and announce, "This is the worst food I've ever tasted, and that's saying something considering I can't remember most of my meals."

After everyone blankly stared at me for five minutes, the table erupts with laughter from the guys.

"I guess some things can just never be forgotten," says Jace between a fit of chuckles.

"And you thought she wouldn't notice, Isabelle," laughs Alec.

Izzy, obviously ticked off, roughly pushes her way out of the chair – making a loud scraping noise that practically made my ears bleed, mind you - and stomps to the door, closing it with a slam. Meanwhile, the boys remain laughing their butts off.

Jace looks at me like he realized something for the first time, "You really are Clary, aren't you?"

"That's what people keep on telling me," I mumble, "Why was she so mad? I didn't mean for her to leave."

Alec glances at the door like to make sure she was really gone, "Oh Izzy is just naturally, uh, well –"

"The worst cook _ever_," finished Jace, "not to mention a little moody."

"Yeah . . . that," Alec admits, not meeting my gaze.

I look around the kitchen and notice how repulsive it looks, like no one has bothered to clean the growing pig sty in weeks.

"Uh, I think I'm going to clean up a little," I announce.

"Let me help you," Jace volunteers. Looking towards the ground, Jace's face resembles the face of a young, childish boy asking the most popular girl to the prom. And that's when I figure it out.

I only nod.

Alec seems to catch the tone in Jace's voice, or the adolescent way he's standing, "I'm going to be in the training room if anyone needs me," and after a second adds, "Which you probably won't."

When the humungous oak doors close behind him, I saunter to the sink to start with the gruesome dishes, which Jace automatically comes over to help me with.

"I think I know how we knew each other before . . . well, you know," I say while rubbing down a bowl that's contents look strangely like a dead bird.

It was Jace's turn to nod, "And?"

"Uh, well, wa-was it possible that maybe . . ." I stutter, my cheeks turning a bright red.

"Spit it out, Clary," the color of my said cheeks making him genuinely curious.

"Did we happen to be a couple," I said in a rush of jumbled up words, though Jace didn't seem to have a difficult time hearing me. Slowly, a grin so wide, it would make blind men see, crept across his face.

"Finally," he whispers.

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**So what did ya think? R&R. **

**Oh, and sorry it took so long getting this up. I can't even describe how busy I am, but thanks for staying true to the story. I love all of you!**


	5. The Truth Hurts

**Okay, so recently in my life, something very…tragic happened. My friend passed away. I took a break from writing to focus on my feelings and helping my friends and the family cope. There has been many tears, and I can't help but ask myself "why?" but then I realize… there's no one that can answer. I just thought you should all know because a VERY important and inspiring person has just been taken from this plant and my life, so I thought that it was only fair. I just can't help but wish he would come back and it's so weird when he's not smiling to me across the room or to hear his laugh… has something like this ever happened to any of you before? And if so, does the pain ever get better? Just wondering.**

**But, with a new outlook, I come back once again! **

**Did you miss me?**

_(Where we left off)_

"_Did we happen to be a couple?" I said in a rush of jumbled up words, though Jace didn't seem to have a difficult time hearing me. Slowly, a grin so wide, it would make blind men see, crept across his face._

"_Finally," he whispers._

**Clary's P.O.V.**

"Finally what?" I ask.

"You remember!" he bellowed, spinning me in his muscled arms. After setting me on my feet, he grabs my hand, ignoring the bubbly soap, "I _knew_ you would come around soon."

"Jace…" I fade out. He looked so happy, so relieved. Like a kid who has finally been reunited with his long lost puppy. Seeing his startling gold eyes gleaming on my green ones with so much _love_, I didn't have the heart to tell him that me knowing how we used to be an item was more of a guess then any sudden flashback or memory. No, my memory is still very much gone, but the look on his face and in his eyes every time he looked at me gave it away. His eyes would droop with sadness, but would scream with hope, desire, and love. The way a girl would only dream her boyfriend would look at her.

Still this whole situation was awkward and not right, like him standing this close to me was uncomfortable but in the best way possible. Everything was ten times more confusing and frustrating. Just getting a simple glass of water would send me over the edge, because not knowing where the cups were or if there was certain glassware she wasn't suppose to use was the most frustrating thing ever. I have to relearn everything about this place and my "family" that should already be natural.

I sighed; he really deserved to know, "I'm sorry, Jace, but I was just going with a guess, I still can't remember anything."

The smile slowly left his face, and with every second his grin decreased, I felt a stab in my heart.

"I really am sorry," I apologize.

He shakes his head, emotions held on neutral, "Don't be sorry, you can't help it."

"That's exactly it!" I burst out, "I wish I could! I can't _help_ anything I feel! When I look at my old drawings from my sketchpad, I find one of this little boy with black hair, and I feel mournful, and sad, and regret, and I don't know why! And like the other day while we were sparring, when you took your shirt off and you had that huge scar right over your heart, I felt instant dread like I wanted to just buckle over and _cry!_ Do you know what that feels like? To feel so _not_ in control of your own life, and not even know why you want to cry at the sight of a scar!" I heaved, finishing my sudden rant.

Jace just stared at my wide eyed, a deer caught in the headlights.

"Uh…," he struggled for words.

"No, don't even say anything. I'm sorry once again, Jace, not only for not remembering but for yelling at you, but I just feel…helpless." I whispered.

He took a breath to speak, "And please don't even tell me that it's okay and that I have every right to feel that way and you understand, because I see the hurt in your eyes every time I forget where the freaking study is in this maze of a place," I cut him off.

He seemed to be dumbfounded at my words, "Okay," is all he said. Without uttering anything more, he turned around and started walking towards the door.

"Jace," I called. He turned his head without attempting to turn his whole body, ignoring eye contact, "I _will_ remember someday you know."

"I know. It's that thought that gives me a reason to live," and then he left.

"I don't think the human body is meant to bend like that, Izzy," I said while staring in awe at the position she managed to warp her body into.

We're stretching for yet another day of my instance shadowhunter training.

"Of course it is," she said matter of factly, "you do it all the time."

"You must have me mistaken for someone else," I laugh.

Glancing up at me with a stern look she said, "Your name is Clary, isn't it?"

I nodded, "That seems to be the only thing I can remember about myself."

"Great. Then stretch," Isabelle replied. Frowning, I tried miserably to replicate her position. Apparently, spreading your legs against the wall while in a standing position was a move I had managed to accomplish in later times, so I thought "why not?"

Well it turns out that sitting on the grimy training room floor with three ice packs on your leg is a good reason to 'why not' do that move ever again.

"I told you that you had to relax your semitendinosis muscle _before _you stretch your legs," explained Izzy while placing a fourth ice pack on my wounded leg.

"I don't know what a semitendinosis muscle is; let alone how to relax it!" I defended myself. Isabelle started in a fit of laughs.

"What?" I asked, impaled that she was giggling while I was in a traumatic amount of pain.

"You should have seen your face when you fell; priceless," she answered around her continuous laugh.

"That's not funny, Iz!" I complained.

"You're right, Clary, I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me." She tried in vain to mask her never ending chuckles.

"Wait a minute! Couldn't you just have used an Iratze?" I exclaimed.

This, of course, set her into even more laughter.

"Look at little, Clary. Finally catching on," she said annoyingly.

Before I had a chance to yell at her more, a stabbing pain jabbed me in the stomach.

"Ahh!" I yelled in shock, helplessly clutching my belly. Isabelle, looking at me in alarm asked, "What? What's wrong?" Giggles forgotten.

"My… my s-stomach," I explained, teeth clenched. My vision started dancing, leaving things moving in and out of sight. The stabs were becoming more and more severe, not just in my stomach but in my head as well. Squeezing more pressure with my arms, tears were streaming down my face.

I could distantly hear Isabelle anxiously shouting something. Whether it was towards me or someone else, I couldn't tell. I've managed to go a long time without another episode and I was just beginning to hope that they were over, apparently I was wrong. Screaming like there was no tomorrow, I was praying that I would just be over with. My head, oh my aching head! I felt like there was a civil war taking place in my body between my stomach and my head. Sweat dripping down my head, the puking began once again, blood red and stinking of rusted copper.

"AHHH!" I yelled once more, "ISABELLE!" Through my pain, I silently hoped that the word that escaped my mouth sounded somewhat like her name, but didn't put much thought into it.

Why do these things always happen to me?

**Isabelle's P.O.V.**

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, not now, _please!"_ I panicked, "HELP! SOMEBODY FREAKING HELP!"

I could hear the distant footsteps that were running towards the training room, wishing that they could come a little faster.

"Clary?" I asked, shaking her shoulders.

Clary looked liked the living dead. Her face was paler then any vampire I know, dampened with dripping sweat. The green eyes that always showed off her happiness were now empty, staring right past me as if I didn't exist. Her screams were bouncing wildly off the walls, filled with terror; she was scared. Clary's hands clenched around her stomach as if she was trying to hold her body together.

Just then, she vomited all over the floor at my feet, but I ignored the red stained barf and moved closer to hold Clary in my arms.

"ISHGAGELLE!" She yelled what sounded as an attempt at my name.

"I'm right here, Clary," I clasped her hand, keeping the tears at bay, "It's going to be okay, help is coming."

Right as I finished, Alec and Magnus came sprinting through the door.

"What the –"Alec exclaimed.

"Not now, Alec!" I yelled at him. There was no time for exclamations of surprise when Clary was withering away in my hands.

Magnus, one step ahead of me, started chanting off spells from the Book of White, blue sparks igniting from his hands. But the only thought at the moment that I could think of was that if Clary doesn't come out of this alive . . . Jace is going to defiantly kill me.

**I love how I end every chapter with a cliff hanger, don't you? And that 2 out of the 5 cliff hangers, Clary is on her death bed. **

**But I have to keep you guys interested some how. ;)**

**And if you're really bummed about the low level of romance at the moment, never fear, I have great things planned for the next chapter. Juicy things.****But I guess you're just gonna have to stay tuned to find out, aren't ya?**

**REVIEW!**


	6. The Nightmare Sketches

**Yes! I did it! I wrote chapter 6! I know it's been an extremely long time, but now schools out and I can write more! ****Review because you hate school and are very excited for summer!**

**Sorry, it's a little short, but that's only because I tried to make chapter 6 and 7 into one chapter but it was WAY to long. So when I tried to divide it, I realized that this was the perfect way to end it. ****So if you're super bombed about how short this chapter is, the next one is longer I promise.**

**Thanks for reading and please review! I want to see if we can get to a hundred reviews, we can do it! **

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**Jace's P.O.V.**

I listened. I listened to the birds chirping brightly directly outside of the open window. I listened to my clothes ruffle as I shifted in the not-very-comfortable leather seat**. **But most importantly, I listened to the sound of Clary's soft breathing. This sound to me was the most calming and reassuring thing that I've ever heard. After her attack in the training room, Magnus had no trouble figuring out what to do this time, how exactly to calm down her symptoms. But yet again, it was only temporary.

I looked around Clary's dimly lit room. Instead of having her stay in the infirmary this time, Magnus thought it would be okay for her to just sleep in her own room. She had clothes splattered all across the hard wood floor, decorating it with a rainbow of colors. But in the middle of this enormous mess, one item stood out for me.

Clary's sketchpad, placed neatly on top of her dresser.

I quickly and quietly leaped out of my chair placed next to her bed and tip-toed my way towards the dresser. Taking the sketchpad in my hands, I started flipping through her drawings. Normally, Clary would have no problem showing me her pictures. (They were mainly of me anyway) But considering she didn't remember any of that… I contemplated whether this was an invasion of privacy, but then settled against it. What can I say? Curiosity killed the cat.

Fingering through the first half, I recognized every single sketch.

Her mother, Luke, me, me, a rune, me, a tree, me, sunset, rune, flower, me, me, me and Clary . . . and that's when the pictures went from those of a harmless hobby to ones of a torturous nightmare.

There were fields burning, children screaming and running for their lives only to have their heads eaten by demons – tons and tons of demons. They were swarming the streets looking for more blood. Always more blood. In the midst of this ciaos I noticed Sebastian, his usual calm expression with blazing mad black eyes, sitting on a uniquely decorated throne. Demons were bowing at his feet. He was in control. The paper started looking blurring and hard to concentrate on. Looking down I saw that it wasn't the paper but my hands. They began shaking uncontrollably. Whether it was out of fear or anger I wasn't sure. Maybe it was both.

Is this some sort of vision Clary saw? How could she not have told me or at least _someone _about this? How could –

"Jace?"

Shocked, the sketchpad fell out of my shaking hands and fell to the floor.

"Hey, are you alright? Is that my sketchpad? Why are you in here? What's going on? What happened?" Clary rambled. Her face was pulled together in confusion. Her green eyes became scared.

_Is she seriously scared of _me?

"Uh . . . you had another, uh, incident. So Magnus brought you here, and I'm supposed to keep an eye on you until you woke . . . but I can see you're awake, so I'll just go then." I stuttered.

Unsure of what to do then, I slowly picked up the fallen sketchpad and gingerly placed it back to its original spot on the dresser and then made my way through the door.

My foot was halfway out the door when Clary called, "Scary isn't it?"

I wasn't sure if she was talking about the sketches or not but I still answered, "You have no idea."

**? POV**

Clary is getting closer and closer to gaining her full memory back. This was not part of the plan, that stupid warlock is screwing everything up. I didn't want to have to do this, but it looks like I'm forced to intervene.

I just have to make one phone call.

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**Tell me what you think and REVIEW please! It takes two seconds. Just tell me what you think.**

**And once again please don't get mad about the length. It had to be done for the good of the story. (In my opinion.)**


	7. A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

**Tada! Here it is ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for! Clary gets some memories back, like completely detailed ones. ****And, just for the record, I must say that this is my favorite chapter I've yet written for this story. Don't ask me why, I just mysteriously loved writing it.****And I know I haven't been putting disclaimers on my previous chapters, so since I'm so forgetful, I'm just going to put one on for the whole story.**

**DISCLAIMER: I am in no way shape or form Cassandra Clare. These characters are not mine, I do not own the MI series.**

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Later that night, after my super freaky run in with Jace, a memory came back to me. But unlike all the little tippets I've been picking up on, it was a full fledged detailed moment of my life. It was one of the most unusual things that's ever happened to me, like I was looking at myself – my former self – and nobody seemed to notice me just standing there. But it came in a dream . . .

_**(Start of Dream / Flashback)**_

_For a moment there was nothing but empty darkness, but slowly laughter started to fill the air, quiet at first but slowly building. It was familiar, a males laugh that echoed like the chiming of angel's bells. A picture started forming in front of me. __I was standing in the Institute library, I could see a fire crackling in the grand fireplace and snow was flowing down from the heavens outside. In the far corner of the huge room, stood a Christmas tree. The lights were sparkling brightly and at the top of the tree – instead of a traditional angel – stood a figure dressed in all black, equipped with a stele. Very funny._

_Turning around I could see Jace leaning on the edge of a very fancy leather chair. There appeared to be a board game perched on the table in front of him, and when I walked over to take a closer look I could see that it was my favorite; Life. __Jace seemed to be having a great time playing the game, he was laughing and smiling; something I've only had the pleasure witnessing once or twice. His golden eyes stared adoringly across to his opponent. Craning my head to see who sat at the opposite side of the table I was met with a strange site. There, laughing joyously towards the – at the time – love of her life, was Clary Fray. Me._

_I looked so happy. __I slowly raised my hand to my cheek trying to figure out how it would feel to smile like that, that wide, that carefree. I couldn't remember._

"_No way! I'm not going to pay you that much for getting knocked up!" the exclamation came from Jace, who – despite the shouting – seemed anything but actually angry._

_I – I mean, past me – laughed once again, "Too bad, so sad. That's the rules, pay up mister."_

_She held her hand out expectedly._

_And, while grumbling, Jace did as she said and roughly put the money into her waiting palm, "Alright whatever, just spin."_

_Clary smiled, "My pleasure."_

_She reached out towards the spinner, ready to make her move. But just when her hand touched the tip, Jace's hand covered hers with his own._

_Clary looked up, surprised by the sudden movement._

"_I love you," Jace whispered. My breath hitched, nobody – I mean a boy – has ever said that to me. Well, not that I can remember._

"_Yeah, I guess you're okay too," she shrugged indifferently._

"_Uh-huh, you guess," Jace smirked._

_They preceded their game, occasionally Jace would complain about the ridiculousness of the rules, but mostly he laughed. He laughed like there was no tomorrow, no worries. I tried my hardest to remember this moment, to have some sort of snap of recognition in my memory, but nothing came. It felt like I was watching a really cheesy chick flick. But right then, I decided. I decided that I would try with Jace. I would try to make it work. Who knows? Maybe my memory would come back and we could continue where we left off._

_But then the thought hit me; _What if I died before then? What if this _thing _kills me before I get a chance to get my memory back? Before I get a chance to make it right with Jace.

_But I let the thought slip, Magnus wouldn't let that happen, he'll find a cure. Right?_

_While I was thinking about all these things, I didn't even notice that the setting had changed. Where there once was the library at the Institute now stood a kitchen, quaint and small, but still nice. __I immediately recognized the people seated at the table that was nestled right in the middle of the kitchen. It was the red haired women that visited me, Jocelyn and her husband Luke. But sitting there with them was another red head; me._

_Once again, I thought of how strange it is looking at myself as if it was a mirror. Though their lips were moving, I couldn't here a single sound. It was almost as if someone had pressed the giant mute button in my brain. But even without the sound, I could tell they were laughing, including me. I walked in a complete circle, looking around the unfamiliar surroundings. On the marble counters there lay picture frame after picture frame, each containing there own memories. _

_Many of them had all three of us smiling at the camera. One was a wedding photo, in which Jocelyn styled an elegant but simple white gown. Another was of the two of us, we were smiling and holding each other in a huge hug. The picture appeared to have been taken in Central Park. In writing so small I almost missed it, was a caption in scripted at the bottom. It read, "Nothing like mother-daughter bonding."_

_I couldn't help it, I screamed. Luckily, the laughing family showed no sign that they heard me._

_She _was_ my mother. I was right all along._

_But then is Luke my father? Why had they gotten married so late if he was? I don't get it! I just wanted to shriek at someone for answers but no one would ever tell me anything!_

_Not wanting to stay here a second longer but not knowing how to get out of this place, I curled up on the floor and closed my eyes. _Maybe when I open them all this will go away_, I thought._

_And it did._

_**(End of Dream / Flashback)**_

I bolted up in bed, sweating. It took me no less then three seconds to realize I wasn't alone – mainly because it took him no less then three seconds to make himself known.

"Good to know you're awake," Magnus greeted while pressing a cold, damp towel to my forehead.

"Yeah, well I had the weirdest dream ever," I said. He delicately raised his eyebrows at me, questioning. I then proceeded to tell him everything that happened, all I saw.

At the end I couldn't help but ask, "So are these memories or something I made up?"

"Oh no, they're memories all right," Magnus nodded. I couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

He continued, "You're beginning to remember, Clary. This is great news, but on the other hand . . ."

Magnus hesitated, looking like he didn't really want to finish his thought. But I knew, I knew where he was going with that, so I nodded, "I might not make it long enough to remember completely."

Magnus shook his head, "Don't think like that, Clary. I told this is easy to fix when spotted, now drink your medicine."

I didn't have the courage to say what I was thinking, _but not when spotted too late._

He roughly handed me the medal cylinder cup that held the file but life saving medicine. To be honest with you, it tasted like elephant pee.

I quietly took the cup from his grasp, but while I was bringing it up to my lips, my throat tickled. Leaning away from Magnus, I coughed into my elbow like a lady. But sadly, when I brought my elbow away, there were traces of blood left of it. I didn't panic or go into a nervous break down like I had the first few times it happened. I just glanced up at Magnus and shrugged. But he seemed way more concerned, his face staring openly at the blood slowly trailing from my elbow, down my air, and landing on the golden bed spread that I lay on.

_Golden_, I thought, _Jace._

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**Plz, plz, review! Tell me what you thought!**

**Also, I don't think I ever said thank you to you fellow readers for being so supportive to me about my loss. It means a lot to know that you guys care. But, on another note, just so you know, I am a girl. There have been some questions because my best friend was a guy. Just putting that out there so there's no more confusion.**


	8. A Happy Reunion Gone Bad

**A/N: YESSS! Chapter Eight, finally! I know I'm always apologizing to you guys about being late, but here it goes again: I'M SOOOO SORRY! And to make it up to you I _PROMISE_ to have the next chapter up before next week, and it will be a Christmas chapter…. Even though I'm putting it up after Christmas. So just think about it as a Holiday gift from me to you. I love you guys so much. Thanks to those of you who are hanging in there and reading it through, because I. Am. Not. Giving. Up. On. This. Story. End of discussion.**

**So as an "I'm sorry" present for you guys, I have a very cute Jace and Clary moment for you guys! Your welcome.**

**ENJOY! And MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

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**Clary's POV**

**Chapter Eight**

**A Happy Reunion Gone Bad**

The next few days, considering my worsening conditions, Magnus put me on bed rest. For the first couple hours I thought it was a gift, a chance to relax and maybe forget about everything. Boy was I wrong. After at least six hours of sitting in bed and doing absolutely nothing, I wanted to punch the wall just for the heck of it. Though I had to endure a few episodes of intense stomach cramps and blood vomiting, I found it was getting easier on me. Whether it was because I was getting better or because I was just so used to the pain by now it was almost numbing, I have no clue.

In the evening, my door cracked open a tad. It startled me and I was waiting in anticipation to see if a demon was going to pop out and eat me. I know it was irrational thinking, but considering I've never actually faced a demon that I can remember, the thought scared me more than dying of the disease. Just as I was about to grab the lamp next to my bed and chuck it at the door, a head of long red hair peaked through the crack and into my room.

"Jocelyn?" I asked, sincerely surprised.

"Oh, sorry, Clary. I thought you were probably sleeping. I was just going to check on you actually," she bit her lip . . . like I do.

"It's okay, mom," I said. In all honestly, I just wanted to see how the words felt against my lips and the results weren't disappointing. It felt as if I've been saying it my whole life. This, now that I think about it, makes sense.

Jocelyn stopped all movement towards me, frozen. "You remember that?" I simply nod in response.

Tears pooled up in her eyes and threatened to spool over as she raced to get her arms around me. It felt so good, to have my mother hug me again after several weeks without her arms around me. Despite myself, I started to cry too.

So there we sat, holding each other as if our lives depended on it, and bawling our eyes out, and I've never been happier.

For the rest of the night, Jocelyn and I just sat in my bed talking. We didn't talk about anything serious, like the fact that I'm dying, or the demon world. We just made small talk and basked in the fact that we had one another. It was absolutely wonderful.

The instant I woke up the next morning, I was immediately aware that something was wrong, and it wasn't my stomach. Not caring what Magnus instructed me to do; I pulled the sweat covered sheets over my legs and made my way for the door.

It was in the middle of the night, so the Institute was scarily quiet. In the distance, I heard what sounded like a piano carrying a beautiful melody. I don't know how I knew who it was, but I automatically just _knew. _Step by step, I trudged towards the Music Room. Not surprisingly, there perched Jace at the stool of the grand piano. Under normal circumstances, I know that he would hear me approach. But I have a feeling that Jace hasn't really been in full "Jace-mode" lately.

So with that in mind, I tip-toed to stand behind him and watch his fingers move skillfully across the keyboard. It was an image that Leonardo Da Vinci would kill to have to opportunity to paint. And then, it hit me, "Why me?"

I didn't mean to say the words out loud, but once the words were out of my mouth, there was nothing I could do. Jace was certainly taken off guard because he jumped when I spoke and spun around in his seat.

"Clary?" he exclaimed, "What in the world are you doing out of bed? Where's Magnus?" Jace pounced up and was making his way out – probably to look for Magnus to take me back to my room – when I grabbed hold of his arm. He glanced down at me, puzzled.

"I know I shouldn't be up," I closed my eyes, "but just answer my question and I promise that I'll go back, no arguing." I waited in anticipation for his response.

He sighed, "What was the question?"

Half smiling, I opened my eyes, "Why me, Jace?"

He seemed even more confused – if that was possible. "Why you what?

"Why'd you pick me? You could have any girl in the world. Why do you want me?" I held my breath.

_If you still do want me, _I thought.

The question seemed to anger him a little. "Because I love you, that's why." He turned to walk out again, but like before, I grasped onto him. But this time, I took his hand.

"Jace, please," I pleaded, "don't leave me. I-I can't explain it, but when I'm away from you, I feel like something major is missing."

He looked me up and down, unsure, "You look like Hell, Clary."

For the first time in days, I assessed what I actually looked like. I was wearing a orange tank top and short grey shorts that were both spattered with my own blood and clenched to my body with sweat. My whole body was glistening with perspiration, and looking at myself, I realized how I _felt. _And I felt like I had been run over by a semi that crushed every bone in me. I noticed my knees were shaking and I was having trouble standing up, Jace seemed to notice too because he wrapped an arm around my waist for support.

Like a delusional maniac, I laughed. My blonde headed angel was staring at me like I was a total stranger, which only made me laugh harder because I remembered that I _was_ a stranger to him now.

"You okay there?" Jace asked, seriously concerned.

I shook my head. "I'm dying, you know that? I'm going to freaking die," I said through a fit of giggles, "and I look like complete crap. I'm going to die looking like crap."

The Shadowhunter stared at me in appalled silence.

"You look like you're going to cry," I pointed out, "It's okay if you want to cry. I'm so used to people doing that when they see me now; it won't be anything new for me." Words were coming out of my mouth carelessly, like a full blown avalanche crashing out of my mouth.

I continued, "I love you, Jace. I remember more stuff everyday, and I feel like Clary now, not just someone barrowing her body. Magnus says that I might even be back to normal in a few days. But then again, I might not be alive in a few days."

Jace swallowed, "Clary-"

"But I do love you, you know. I know it's been months and you probably don't want to hear it but-"

"Clar-"

"I think it's important for you to know. I wish I had more time with you, to know everything about you-"

"Clary, love-"

"But there's still these _blanks_ that I can't seem to get passed-"

"CLARISSA FRAY, SHUT UP!"

My mouth has never snapped shut that fast in my entire life . . . well, you know, as far as I'm aware of.

His hands left my waist to gently reach up and caress my face, "You beautiful, beautiful women. I love you more then anything I've ever known in this universe. I've been tortured without you, your touch, and your voice. I waited until I could finally hear those words come out of your mouth, thinking that I might not ever get to. So please believe me, angel, when I say . . . I. love. You."

I didn't bother responding; I circled my arms around his strong neck and smashed my lips against his. Heat started stirring in me, and I pulled my body tight against his, fitting like a puzzle. Jace's smooth lips slid against mine with perfect rhythm as he opened my mouth with his to deepen the kiss. I tugged on his hair with more force then I intended, which resulted with a low moan from Jace. His blonde curls felt heavenly between my fingers, his hands felt amazing against my back, pushing me more closely to him (if that was possible.) Blood was rushing to my cheeks in the non-puking way. A wonderful feeling started bubbling up within me and I just couldn't get enough of him. Jace's tongue morphed perfectly with mine in a loving but heated kind of way. All of the emotions he kept bottled up from everyone appeared and I decided then that I was never going to stop. Just as I was going to try and pull his shirt up over his head, Jace pulled back from me, but his muscular arms still stayed around me.

"What is it?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

He said nothing, just stared into my green eyes. After a minute or two of no words passed, I leaned in to kiss him again. But he pulled out of reach. "Not now, Clary."

I pouted, "I thought you wanted this. I thought you wanted me."

"I do," he rushed, "but just . . . not now. Not when you can't remember who your own father is."

I smiled, "My father's Luke."

"Are you sure he is? Your positive Luke gave birth to you."

Now, I pulled away from his embrace, "I know about Valentine, Jace. I know he raised you, I know his blood runs through my veins and not yours; I know he killed a lot of people, and I know he and my brother are responsible for the death of Max, your brother."

Jace winced at the last part, but I continued, "I may not know everything. But I know who I am, okay? And I know who you are, and that I love you no matter what."

He sighed, pulling me back to him. "You're right," he answered simply. Leaning down, he kissed me. It was gentler then the last one and I smiled against his mouth in anticipation of what was to come next.

"Not now," he whispered against my lips. I growled but decided to drop it for the night. Jace tugged me towards the couches that rest in the back of the darkly lit room where we sat to catch up on what has been going on in our lives that we've missed. He informed me about the strange sightings of Sebastian that have been spotted by Downworlders, but they were vague and spotted within a matter of seconds, which the Lightwoods have considered to only be paranoia in the aftermath of the major war that just happened. I was about to suggest otherwise when, suddenly, the door to the Music Room flew open.

"There you guys are!" shouted Isabelle. "Jace, mom wants you in the library S.T.A.T. And Clary, I'm supposed to personally escort you back to your room where your mom and Jocelyn would like to have a serious talk to you about what _bed rest_ means."

Both Jace and I groaned in unison, both wanting more time to reunite.

"Izzy," said my hunky Shadowhunter boyfriend, "what is this about exactly?"

The young Lightwood sighed, "Magnus has gone missing."

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**A/N: How'd you like it? Good? Bad? Something I should do differently? If so, TELL ME PLEASE AND _COMMENT! _It takes two seconds and I'd like to know what you think! **


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